


Miraculous Ladybug One-Shots

by ItsNotYouItsMimi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:38:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsNotYouItsMimi/pseuds/ItsNotYouItsMimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have a habit of thinking up fantastic aus or little ideas that are too trivial to write a fic around but too awesome to ignore, so I compiled some one-shots of varying length!</p><p>I'm keeping it rated general for now, but if something gets sinful, I will warn you in the chapter summary!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bakery

Chat Noir had been dying to try out his new pick-up line on Ladybug for some time now. He had rehearsed it (as Adrien) in front of a mirror, he had recited to himself as he was going to sleep, and now he was finally getting to use it on her.

While Ladybug searched for the Akumatized target, Chat Noir practiced in his head, making sure he had it down. 

"Do you see her?"

Chat Noir started. "Uh, what? N-no, but um, hey, Ladybug..."

"What?"

"Do you live in a bakery? Because you've got some nice-"

"How did you know that?" Ladybug demanded.

"Everyone in the city knows that you have nice buns, Ladybug."

Ladybug flushed deep red, but continued anyway. "No, I mean how did you know I live in a bakery? Did you follow me home last time or something?"

"Wait, you really do live in a bakery?" Chat Noir asked in confusion.

"Gah, you're creepy, Chat! Don't stalk me like that!" She took our her yo-yo and flung it outwards, then Spider-Man'd her way to the Akumatized victim. 

As Chat Noir followed, he couldn't help but  
to realize he only knew one girl who lived in a bakery.


	2. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir finally tells Ladybug his true feelings, and ends up with more than he bargained for.

"I'm gonna do it, Plagg. I swear I'm gonna do it this time."

"You're not gonna do it," Plagg said.

Adrien rounded on the kwami. "You're just saying that to get a rise out of me!"

Plagg giggled, not admitting that that was exactly what he was doing, but not denying it either.

Adrien took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror, and commanded, "Plagg, transform me!"

With some difficulty, Chat Noir managed to open the windows of his room and hop out, leaving it slightly ajar for easy reentry. He raced across Paris, a special, stupid kind of grin settling on his face. A grin of adrenaline, because he loved to run like this and to feel such liberation, but also because he was finally convinced, and was  
completely ready, in body, mind, and spirit, to confess his acute feelings to Ladybug. He was overwhelmingly determined to succeed in this one task, wanting more than anything for Ladybug to finally know.

He wanted her to know the way his heart skipped a beat every time she smiled at him, that sweet yet somehow devilishly mischievous and mysterious smile. He wanted her to know how truly lost he felt looking into her cobalt blue eyes, how he felt like he was drowning in those gorgeous sparkling spring pools. He wanted her to know the way he truly felt at peace, like he never did, when she initiated their partnership fights; when she acted as his yin, when he was her yang, and how perfectly and easily they worked together, and how it was his favorite feeling in the world. He wanted to tell her that she was the best part of his life; but she'd already said her heart was taken.

It didn't matter. However much she cared for this other person, it couldn't begin to compare to how he felt every time he so much as saw her face.

She was waiting exactly where she'd said she would be, sitting on the steps of the Trocadero. It was nearly midnight, and she was completely alone, a solitary silhouette illuminated at the edges by the lights dotted throughout the area. 

She heard his soft footsteps approaching and turned, looking oddly celestial and serene. Her eyes popped and sparkled with mischief. "Salut, Chat Noir."

It was moments like these when her pure beauty, her pure magnificence, rendered him utterly speechless and paralyzed. In order not to make an utter fool of himself, he decided not to speak and just nodded, still approaching her carefully.

She stood up and slowly walked to meet him, swaying her hips in a way that made them very hard to ignore. He stopped dead in his tracks. She was just messing with him, now; they both knew it. Of course. She must know something of what he planned to do, if she was acting like so playfully and vixen-like. Ladybug never toyed with him like this; she simply pushed away his advances and focused on the job. Now, his advances were the job. And she was certainly focusing on him, which made him immensely nervous. 

She stopped in front of him, looking up at his wide green eyes. "You want to explain, kitty cat?"

He gulped, shaking a little bit, and managed to say, "Yes, but I-I don't know if-" He chewed the words in his mouth, trying to formulate them into something comprehensible. "Well, I-"

"Aw, cat got your tongue?" she teased, a spark of a smile lighting up in her eyes. 

Yes. Yes, absolutely, her flirtatious manner was rendering him unable to utter even a simple sentence. She was engaging him in a game, a game in which it wasn't necessarily her goal to win, but in which she always did anyway, since he was a far inferior player.

He could do nothing but nod. She giggled. "Okay, let's start simple. Why have you asked me to be here?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," he managed to say, mesmerized by her eyes again. Oh, God, they were so gorgeous, and they shone with mirth and impishness.

"Well, we don't normally meet here at midnight," she pointed out, running her fingers through his hair. To accentuate her point, a distant clock chime could be heard in the distance, striking twelve times.

"Okay, well- I- I think it's been long enough," he began, taking the plunge, aided silently by Plagg. "I just have to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"How I feel... about you," he finished, vaguely.

"Okay," she said, mouth turning up at the corners ever so slightly. 

"I mean, you know a lot of it already," he admitted. "I've already taken an arrow for you, but I'd take a million more. I- you're the most magnificent person I've ever met, or ever will meet."

The joking laughter was fading from her eyes, as she realized how serious he was being and how truly he meant he words he said. 

"Every time I see you, I fall apart, my heart beats out of my chest, and I feel dizzy..."

She seemed worried for his health now, but allowed him to continue nonetheless.

"...you're the light of my life, I mean... there's no one alive I care about more," he confessed, not really knowing what else to say.

"I... I care about you, too, chaton," Ladybug admitted, tugging on her hair softly. "There's... really only one person I care about more than you..."

It was meant with only the best intentions, but it still hurt. Chat Noir could feel the words splintering and embedding themselves in his skin, tearing him apart. He didn't want Ladybug to care about anyone more than she did he, but of course the world doesn't work that way. It continues to gyrate doggedly around the Sun, not caring for the trivial heartbreaks of its inhabitants.

To Chat Noir, this was anything but trivial, however. He did his best to smile, but it was hard; he felt as though his lips were cracking open and bleeding, wanting to express his own anguish.

"That's... okay, My Lady," he lied, struggling to present an attitude of nonchalance. "I'm sure they're worth your love."

"He is," she sighed dreamily. "Oh, Chat Noir, if you only knew..."

"What makes him so great?" Chat asked, working hard to keep the scorn out of his tone.

"Where to even start?" She gave Chat Noir a sweet smile, one that melted his insides on sight. "I'm sure you know of him... he's got legions of fans, but... they don't know him like I do. They haven't fallen in love with him like I have."

Those words, they hurt even more than the previous ones. She'd fallen in love with him. 

He wanted to cry out, to tell her how much those words, those empty syllables and sounds mashed together, how much they stung. How they made his skin crawl and burn. How he felt as though he were being ripped apart by fire ants wearing chainsaws, dipped in a river of acid. He said nothing of the sort.

"Does he know you are in love with him?"

The sentence tasted toxic on his tongue.

"No," she exhaled mournfully, casting her cerulean eyes down. "He thinks we are just good friends..."

Like you and me, Chat ached to scream, but refrained. 

"You said I know of him?"

"It's hard not to," she giggled, eyes darting up again to come in contact with the virescent green of Chat Noir's. "He's very famous."

Makes it easier for me to tear apart the city and find him and make him pay for playing with My Lady's emotions, Chat Noir thought bitterly.

"His name's Adrien Agreste," she murmured under her breath, so quietly that Chat Noir was almost convinced he was hearing things-- but no, she had said it, not anticipating that his synthetic cat ears would pick it up.

"I... I know him."

Her head jerked up. "You- you heard me?" she demanded frantically, cheeks rapidly darkening to crimson.

"What can I say?"

With a sharp dash of light, Chat Noir was gone, and in his stead was a boy wearing a white jacket and a black shirt.

Ladybug's hand flew to her mouth, eyes welling up rapidly.

"I... I never knew..." she whispered, voice breaking somehow, as her eyes swept over him, devouring him.

"I know."

"Can you... can you forgive me?"

Forgive her?

There was no forgiving that needed to be done. 

"My Lady," he breathed, "I love you."

And she was crying, falling into his arms, drinking in the warmth of his embrace. Any warmth he had was hers to take; just as with anything else he had. 

And all his love, she had already taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing around with different styles, as you may be able to tell, so this is my less-plot-driven-and-more-descriptively-oriented style that I'm trying out! To me, the actual events are more important than the richness of the language, so this section started as an attempt to improve my literary prowess in the field of descriptive language! I'm very happy with how it turned out, though it really was a lot like a different one-shot that I posted to Tumblr, as in it ends in a very similar way. I might post it here, but I haven't been given too much feedback in the way of comments, so unless I get a lot of demand for that here, I won't post it. ((Even though they're similar, it's still my opinion that this one is better, which is why I posted this one and left the other one out.))


	3. Paonne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This author's take on Paris before Ladybug and Chat Noir were its superheroes, told from Marinette's point of view in a dream.

When Marinette opened her eyes, she didn't recognize what she was looking at. Two silhouettes that she couldn't recognize were standing against Paris's skyline. One had a jagged, feathered appearance. The other was wearing a crisp suit, as far as she could tell, that had two strange peaks protruding out of the shoulder blades, or maybe the collarbones. She wasn't sure from her point of view.

"It's beautiful, huh?" the suited one said. "Just like you."

"You're talking nonsense, now," the feathered one laughed, but she didn't deny it.

"I say a lot of silly things, I'll admit," he replied, "but that was not one of them."

Feathers giggled again and lightly shoved Suit. "Ah, Papillon, you're such a flirt!"

Marinette gasped and covered her mouth. Papillon? But this man sounded nothing like Gabriel Agreste!

She tiptoed around to view their faces. The woman wore an extravagant peacock uniform, complete with a bejeweled mask, and Papillon was still someone she couldn't recognize. Certainly not Gabriel Agreste.

Feathers and Papillon had still not noticed Marinette yet, thankfully. She was completely riveted.

"But it's true? You have... someone else?" The pain was evident in Papillon's voice.

"Well... yes. But I won't forget you," Feathers promised. 

"And I can't change your mind?"

"I'm engaged, Papillon!" Feathers reminded him, fluttering her fingers and displaying her ring, which flashed in the moonlight.

"Very well. Can I at least give you something, as a parting gift? If you're not going to save Paris with me anymore?"

Feathers looked puzzled. "If you wish."

Papillon detached the brooch and placed it in her blue-gloved hand. A burst of lavender light accompanied the shedding of his well-tailored plum suit. 

Feathers covered her mouth. "All this time?"

"I'll always love you," the man confessed, "even if I know it's impossible." He gently rolled her fingers over the brooch, clasping them in place. "Be safe, okay? And if you change your mind-"

"I won't," Feathers interrupted, in a way that reminded Marinette of Adrien. "But thank you for the offer." She traced the brooch. "Are you sure you want to give it away like this?"

"More sure than I've been about anything else in my life," Not-Papillon said with confidence. "It'll be something to remember me by, no? Once you're all settled down."

Feathers smiled sadly and nodded. She jumped away, until Not-Papillon couldn't see her anymore, and landed in a little corner of the city, where it was quiet and peaceful. She muttered a phrase Marinette couldn't hear. The pin below her neck glowed, and the kwami was released. Marinette's eyes widened.

It was Adrien's mom.

"Ah, he shouldn't have done that," Mrs. Agreste moaned. "What was he thinking?"

"Love is a strange thing," the kwami said. "It's best not to question it."

"I suppose so." Mrs. Agreste patted a secret little pocket in her shirt, which the kwami hid in without hesitation. She strolled away in the general direction of the Agreste mansion, which Marinette could now see was a simple little house at the time.

"Ah, there you are," young Monsieur Agreste welcomed his fiancé. "I've been waiting for you."

"There was no need for that," Mrs. Agreste chided.

"Of course there was." Gabriel ushered soon-to-be Mrs. Agreste into the house. 

She stepped in willingly, but excused herself for a moment and made her way to what seemed to be her room. She located a jewelry box and placed the brooch in the third drawer. Then she clutched the pin.

"I think this is goodbye," she said reluctantly.

"Goodbye!" the little kwami chirped, and smiled as Mrs. Agreste took off the pin and it disappeared.

"Are you coming?" Gabriel's voice called from downstairs.

"Yes, I'll be right there!" She carefully placed the pin next to the brooch and closed the drawer before running back to her soon-to-be husband.

Marinette's eyes were flung open, and now she was back in her own room.

She sat up in bed. "Tikki, was there another superhero pair in Paris before Chat Noir and Ladybug?"

"Yes, the peacock and the Papillon," Tikki answered without hesitation. "Why?"

"No reason." Marinette recalled the picture of Mrs. Agreste that Adrien had set as his screensaver and mentally compared it to the twenty- or thirty-something Mrs. Agreste from her dream. "I was just wondering."

The way Paonne had pushed away Papillon's advances had felt so hauntingly familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is taken from one of my other fics on Wattpad, named Post-Reveal: Volpina, and since I never got around to publishing it here, I thought I might share with you all my headcanon for the peacock miraculous and the butterfly miraculous pre-Ladybug and Chat Noir! (This is all given that the peacock miraculous was once owned by Adrien's mom, and that Gabriel Agreste is Papillon now, which explains how he obtained the miraculous for it.
> 
> P.S. Paonne means "peahen" in French. While I am aware that it is a peaCOCK miraculous, as peahens do not have such vibrant colors, I decided to take some creative liberties.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A baking lesson quickly turns into either Marinette's worst nightmare... or the best day of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sin warning, right here! Nothing especially sexual, but strong language and shirtless Adrien. That is all.

Tying one of the spare aprons behind his back, Adrien flashed Marinette an excited grin. She could only nod hastily, doing her best to smile.

She had never freaked out like this before.

Adrien was not only here at her house, he was here for baking lessons, of all things, and she was sure that she would screw it up somehow. Maybe she'd give him baking powder instead of baking soda, or she'd use the wrong measurements and forget to double the number of eggs or something. She was so nervous, it was nearly laughable.

"Okay..." she began, bringing a bag of flour out. "Um, I thought we could start with something simple, so I bought some chocolate chips for chocolate chip cookies." She found the bottle of vanilla extract and unscrewed it. "This recipe will make about sixty cookies."

"Sixty?"

"Um... yes," she said, voice shaking. "Let me just-"

Her hands, trembling as they were, shook the bottle dangerously, and she desperately tried to be cautious and pour only a teaspoon into the bowl.

She might have actually pulled it off, but right then Adrien noticed her quivering and attempted to place a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

This was the wrong move. A tremor ran through Marinette's body, and she stifled a scream; in the process turning around and accidentally causing the vanilla bottle to empty the entirety of its contents onto Adrien's shirt.

"Oh- oh m-my god, I-I- I'm so, so sorry," Marinette squealed, covering her mouth and assessing the damage she had done in horror.

"Oh, it's no big deal," Adrien said, taking off his jacket.

Holy FUCK, his arms were hot. 

Marinette began to hyperventilate. Keep calm, she ordered herself. Don't blow it. Oh, God, it's just his bare arms, you can do this, don't pass out because his arms are the most beautiful things you've seen in this lifetime.

Adrien looked over to Marinette. "Can I put this in your laundry? I know I must seem very rude, but I have nowhere else to put it."

"Y-yes," Marinette squeaked, indicating the washer. "N-no, go ahead."

Adrien crossed over and easily slung his jacket into the washing machine, and then proceeded to take his T-shirt off as well.

Marinette shoved her fists in her mouth to prevent from screeching. Her cheeks burned ever hotter, as though she was infected with a fever that just kept rising.

This was either the best day of her life, or the worst.

Adrien stuffed his black T-shirt into the washer and rejoined Marinette with the baking supplies. "What's next?"

"T-two and a quarter cups of flour," Marinette managed. Don't look down at his bare stomach. It doesn't matter if he has an eight-pack. Do not fucking look down. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you fucking perv. Do not even think about Adrien's potentially smoking hot abdominals.

Very intentionally keeping her eyes glued to the dry cup measurer, she surgically scooped two slightly-heaping cups of flour out of the bag and deposited them into the bowl.

"And... wait, I think I know. Sugar?"

Marinette nodded, pressing her lips together. She would not look. She could not look. No, no, no, no, no, no. No. No.

Turning away from him, she got out the sack of sugar. "You need three-fourths of a cup of that, and-" She dragged the bag of brown sugar out- "the same amount of this."

Trying to hand off the dry cup measurer without looking, she discovered, was rather difficult. She finally caved and turned to Adrien, pressing the tool in his hands.

She couldn't help it. She looked down at his potentially smoking hot abdominals.

Biting her lip intensely, she tried not to do anything... weird. Like screaming or passing out, which at this point she was very liable to do.

They were every bit as hot as she'd made them out to be in her late-night fantasies, seemingly carved in steel and pure muscle. She had an intense longing for Gabriel to made Adrien model shirtless more often... a lot more often.

Adrien raised an eyebrow, as Marinette had been essentially paralyzed for a good thirty seconds. "I'll, um... take these." He pried the cup measures from her tightly clenched hands. She did not move.

He carefully measured out the appropriate amounts of the sugar and set the bags aside. He looked straight at her. "And now..."

Marinette's lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes were wide. She shook her head, unable to speak.

"Uh, Marinette? Is everything okay?"

She shook her head again.

He stepped towards her and traced her flaming red cheeks with his soft hand. "I'm sorry if I'm-"

She didn't remember the rest, as that was when her eyes rolled up in her head and she lost consciousness, collapsing to the floor limply like a half-empty sack of flour.


End file.
